


Stars

by tinyniel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyniel/pseuds/tinyniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Dean’s favourite things about the Men of Letters-bunker, is that it’s almost in the middle of nowhere. Sure, there’s a little town not too far away, and some houses scattered near by. But with the entrance hidden from the view of these houses, and the road being a dead end, there’s next to no lighting anywhere near him. It’s perfect for night’s just like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misha_anon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/gifts).



> Prompt fill. The prompt was simply 'stars'.

One of Dean’s favourite things about the Men of Letters-bunker, is that it’s almost in the middle of nowhere. Sure, there’s a little town not too far away, and some houses scattered near by. But with the entrance hidden from the view of these houses, and the road being a dead end, there’s next to no lighting anywhere near him. It’s perfect for night’s just like this.

It’s dark outside, almost pitch black, then new moon barely a sliver of light in the sky. Dean’s streched out on the hood of his car, back against the windshield. He’s nursing a beer, head tilted back as he looks up at the sky, the sound of Journey drifting out of the Impala’s open window.

This has always been one of Dean’s favourite ways to unwind. Back when every week was a new monster, and they could take a break every once in a while and remember what it felt like to breathe, he used to do this all the time. Find some quiet spot, sit on the hood of the car and just watch the sky. Sometimes with Sammy, both of them with a beer, neither of them saying a word, and sometimes alone with Sammy asleep in the back seat, Dean all alone with his thoughts. He would lean back, try to count the specs of light strewn across the sky, and for a while he’d completely forget about demons and vengance and missing fathers.

There’s not much time for that these days. Feels like there hasn’t been for years. Ever since he came back from hell, it’s like he’s been doing nothing but fighting monsters too big for anyone to handle, and the second there has been a moment’s peace on the horizon, something new and scary has popped up, and then they’ve been right back in the game.

He hums along to the low sound of the music, eyes seeking out some of the more familiar constellations. He smiles a shooting star flies by, trying not to let it remind him of falling angels.

One of these days, he’s going to have to try out the pretty massive telescope they’ve got set up inside. Get a closer look at it all. Of course, that’s after he figures out this whole ‘angel-war best-friend-hunted brother-possessed-by-an-angel-and-he-doesn’t-know-it’-business.

There’s an unmistakable sound of a shoe on dry leafs, and Dean bolts upright, hand flying to the gun he has tucked away in his belt. Cas stops midway up the steps from the bunker door, and Dean relaxes at the sight of him.

«’evening, Cas.»

«May I join you?»

«Sure.»

Dean gestures to the spot next to him on the hood, and Cas slides up, leaning back next to Dean. They sit in silence for a while, and for once Dean is glad that Cas isn’t one of those people who feels the need to talk all the time. The silence is comfortable instead of awkward, and Dean relishes it, sipping his beer and watching the stars.

When one of them inevitably talks, it’s Cas.

«I think I should get going soon.»

Sometimes twists in Dean’s gut, and he takes another sip of his beer, hoping the right words will come with it.

«I mean,» Cas fidgets with the zipper on his jacket. «I’m a beacon for trouble, with both fractions of angels after me. You’re not safe with me here.»

Dean sighs, letting his empty beer drop to the ground next to the car. «Cas-»

«No, you don’t have to make excuses,» Cas interrupts. «You have Sam to consider. I’m a liability.»

«Cas, listen,» Dean turns to face him, and Cas looks up, eyes so full of hope it nearly breaks Dean’s heart. He knows what he _should_ say, and he knows what he _wants_ to say, and for once he’s going to pick the latter.

«I never should have asked you to go last time. I’m sorry.» He gives Cas a small smile. «Please stay.»

«But the angels-»

«Let ‘em come.» Dean tries to sound cocky, but he can tell he’s not fooling Cas. Or himself, for that matter.

«We’ll figure something out,» he promises. «You belong here too, Cas. I want you here.»

«Are you sure, Dean?»

Cas looks up at him with those blue, blue eyes, and Dean can’t help but smile.

«Yeah Cas. I’m sure.»


End file.
